


Between a Rock and a Hard Place

by FlitShadowflame



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, Bodice-Ripper, Dirty Talk, Dorian's not a boyscout but he did come prepared, M/M, Marking, does it count as a bodice ripper if the article ripped is actually trousers?, wallsex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-16 22:54:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4643085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlitShadowflame/pseuds/FlitShadowflame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...or a hard Vashoth, whatever.</p><p>They're both done with waiting.  In fact, they're not even waiting until they get to the bed.  Adaar wants Dorian right <b>now.</b></p><p>(For this <a href="http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/14614.html?thread=57285142#t57285142">kinkmeme prompt</a>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between a Rock and a Hard Place

Dorian has never really known how to handle an attraction that didn't resolve itself almost immediately in sex. But with Adaar...he'd wanted to wait, wanted to have the Inquisitor's admiration and attentions for as long as he could keep them, even if that meant never taking him to bed at all. A few kisses that meant everything gradually reassure him that Adaar intended to keep him around. He lets himself believe, finally, that things would be different.

And yet, they take quite a familiar pattern when Dorian resolves himself about deepening their acquaintance. Heated looks, terribly incautious smirks alongside quite overt innuendos, and lingering touches at the smallest excuse. Knowing the Inquisitor will never really have time for this, Dorian makes it for him; contents himself to wait like a secret mistress hiding away in her lover's boudoir. It wouldn't be the first time he'd done as much. He takes time for himself first, of course, because it wouldn't do to appear as anything less than a vision of perfection.

He thinks, from the way Adaar's breath catches when he spots Dorian lounging in his chair with a book, that he has spent that time well.

There was a short speech he'd memorized, just a few witticisms and an invitation for ravishment, but the words abandon him when he catches Adaar's hungry gaze. The Vashoth appraises him silently for a long moment, and then he says, voice rough with arousal, "Stand up."

Dorian sets the book aside and takes to his feet. Adaar grabs his wrists to yank him close, in a bruising kiss, and Dorian kisses back nearly as hard, straining up on his toes to reach. Then Adaar steers him backwards, up against the wall of his chambers, and grabs Dorian by the buttocks to lift him clean off the ground. Dorian wraps his legs around Adaar's waist, his arms around the Vashoth's neck, on instinct.

"I'm going to fuck you right here, just like this," Adaar growls, nipping Dorian's neck. "And you're going to make as much noise as you like and maybe a bit more, too. Sound good?"

Dorian whines inarticulately, rutting up against Adaar's firm, muscular stomach, ignoring the many layers of clothes still between them.

"I hope you weren't too fond of these pants," Adaar mutters, and he tears the seat in half, then does the same for Dorian's smalls.

"Brute," Dorian gasps out, hopelessly turned on by the display of strength.

"Sometimes, a crude tool is the best for the job," Adaar says cheekily, licking Dorian's jaw from chin to ear, then exploring the latter with his tongue. "Besides...you like it." One hand remains on Dorian's buttocks while the other fishes in a beltpouch. "Hold on to me, I'll need both hands for this," he warns. Dorian clings, nuzzling Adaar's cheek and kissing him needily, and the time passes quickly. "I'm going to start," he says, circling Dorian's hole with one finger. "Are you alright?"

"Darling, if you don't fuck me this instant I may have to set you on fire," Dorian tells him impatiently. "I did this part already."

Adaar blinks, slips a finger in, and groans at the ease of it. One, two, three fingers and they all go in with only a hint of resistance.

"You are exceptional," Adaar sighs, kissing Dorian's nose. "I'd rather do it myself, generally, but..."

"But it's been entirely too long and you really must fuck me," Dorian interrupts, grinding down on Adaar's fingers.

"I was going to say it was incredibly hot to imagine you thinking about this, fingering yourself open well in advance, then sitting in my room all prim and proper with your hole so wet and stretched - "

" _Now_ ," Dorian whines, and Adaar has to chuckle.

"Now," he agrees, pulling his fingers free and replacing them with his cock. Dorian sighs in pleasure.

His gentleness disappears, replaced with urgency and heat. He presses Dorian into the wall and fucks him in short, sharp thrusts, biting the mage's neck to stifle his own noises of pleasure. Dorian shows no such restraint, and Adaar is glad of it, is glad to hear him vocally enjoying things, because he's not sure he could stop even if Dorian begged him to.

Dorian comes, squeezing tight and hot around Adaar's cock, and the Vashoth is not long in following him, thrusting in a scant handful of times and leaning against Dorian and the wall as he spills, not trusting his legs to keep him up.

Adaar lingers like that, breathing heavily into Dorian's neck, and the human does his best not to squirm against the pressure and weight pinning him down. He strokes Adaar's forehead instead, and follows the curve of his horns with a pleased sigh.

Then Adaar straightens with a grunt, still holding Dorian in place, and the next thing Dorian knows he's falling onto the mattress, Adaar hardly a moment behind, up on his knees and helping Dorian out of his ruined clothes.

Dorian means to say something witty or at least grateful but what comes out is only, "Mmmf."

"Sorry about the trousers," Adaar mumbles, blushing a little. The touch of pink in his cheeks warms Dorian's heart in an unfamiliar way.

"I suppose I'm trapped here until someone supplies me with an adequate replacement," Dorian says mildly. "Oh no. However shall we occupy ourselves, I wonder?" he drawls, snagging one of Adaar's wrists and drawing it to his mouth so he can kiss the broad grey palm. "I'm sure you'll find some way to make it up to me."

Adaar growls in an interested, pleased sort of way, and he descends upon Dorian again, kissing him breathless.


End file.
